As Old as the Sea
by diverb
Summary: Spamano Pirate Au. When pirate captain Antonio saves a young Italian boy from execution, he thinks it's his lucky day. Little does he know that, with the fowl mouthed, pasta loving man will come a secret, a secret that will eventually not only lead Antonio to true love and friends he thought were dead, but back to his oldest, darkest enemy as well.
1. Chapter 1

It was a bright day, that day, with sunlight that glared at the earth and a cool breeze that rode from the ocean into the town. It blew around the small, coastal Italian streets, through the market stalls and shops that sold all ranges of things from carts to pasta.

Captain Antonio felt the breeze brush his curly, brown hair as he stepped ashore for the first time in what seemed like forever. Three months straight sailing from Greece, only the salty sea water stretching out for miles on end, rocking the ship gently, or sometimes violently, across the blanket of waves.

Antonio never got seasick, spending most of his time on the ocean. However, he did feel a little queasy as he set foot on the cobbled pavement next to which his precious ship, Maria Fernandez Carriedo was docked. It felt strange to be standing on a floor that wasn't gently moving under his feet, and to be smelling other things rather than the wood of the boat and the salt of the sea.

He could see a market, bright, busy and colourful, off on the other side of the sun soaked harbour, and remembered that he needed to go and buy more supplies for the ship. He quickly grabbed a small bag of gold from his cabin, and set off for the market, accompanied by his lookout, Bella. Antonio had picked up Bella a few years ago in Holland, along with her older brother Abel, after saving them from a sticky situation with an English pirate. They were, of course, key members in the family of his crew, Bella with her smile that could light up even the darkest of nights, and Abel, who... Well, Antonio took the Dutch man as a good rival, and he knew he would help him out if anything happened, especially if it involved his little sister.

Antonio and Bella received many odd looks as they walked through the bustling Italian streets. They were foreigners in this town, not to mention the fact that the stood out from the other people; their clothes were slightly dirty and well worn after months at sea, and their skin was tanned. However, it was obvious they were pirates, and that got them a least some respect.

After a short walk, they reached the market. There were many, many stalls, all selling a variety of things from weapons to food, with shopkeepers shouting out passers-by, advertising their products in Italian, English and several other languages.

Antonio was examining a length of rope from a tiny stall selling boat equipment, when he heard a noise, the sort of noise that lots of angry, arguing people make. He turned, trying to find the source of the commotion, and sensed that it was coming from just around the corner, in another street of the market.

"Captain?" Bella had obviously clocked the noise as well, and was glancing around nervously. "Where is it coming from?" She asked quietly.

"Over there," Antonio jerked his head in the direction of the chatter. "It sounds like trouble to me." He grinned. "Lets go check it out, sí?"

They headed over to the scene, a small market square area filled with talking people, all attention on a man in the middle of the square. He was talking loudly to the crowds, often gesturing at a tall, strong looking man stood behind him. At first, Antonio thought the shorter man was talking about the strong looking man, until he realised that the strong man was actually holding someone. Pushing through the crowds to get a better view, the Spanish pirate finally managed to see the cause of all this trouble:

He couldn't have been anything older than twenty. His face was heart shaped, with an olive complexion that sported multiple bruises and a bleeding nose. He looked pretty beat up, his body hunched over, painful tears brewing in his deep, brown eyes. His shiny bronze hair fell over his face, ticking the dark bruise just forming on his cheek. Antonio felt upset that a someone had beaten up such a beautiful person, but he knew there must have been at least some reason behind it. He listened to what the shortish man was shouting at the crowds.

"...and let me tell you, zis vas not ze first time he's been caught stealing! Oh no, several times has he stole from ze market stalls, but each time ze owners vere too kind to him! But now I have caught him, zere vill be no escape!" The man spoke quickly and triumphantly with a harsh accent that Antonio couldn't help but feel that he recognised from somewhere. After listening for a while, he figured that the pretty young man had stolen something from the shouting man's shop, and the people of the market were deciding on a punishment for him.

"Make him pay back for all the food he stole!" Yelled one man from the crowd. He was greeted with cheers and other ideas.

"Burn down his home!" Suggested a big angry woman.

"Cut off some of his fingers!"

"Sell him to the slave dealer!"

"Tie up his arms and legs and throw him in the sea!" That one was popular with the locals, greeted with a big cheer. Antonio glanced at all the people around him. And he'd thought that Italians were nice... His grass green eyes fell on the injured boy, tears running down his grimy cheeks. An idea formed in his head.

"Wait here." He muttered to Bella, before pushing his way through the crowd. He swaggered easily up to the angry man, ignoring all the suspicious looks from the locals.

"Vat do you vant?" The man hissed, flipping his dark brown hair angrily.

"I'd like to buy the thief off you." Antonio replied, smirking slightly at the confused look on the dark haired man's face. "I have gold to pay you with, and I promise I will teach him a lesson for stealing." He jangled the bag of gold temptingly in his hand. "Do we have a deal, Mr...?"

"Edelstein." Replied the dark haired man coldly. "And no, ve do not have a deal-"

"Hang on a moment amigo!" Suddenly it clicked in Antonio's head where he knew that accent from. That was the accent, so similar to the harsh accent that spoke to him over bottles of wine, that laughed with him, that sang drunkenly with him, that argued with him.  
"Do you know a man named Gilbert Beilschmitt?" Mr. Edelstein's eyes widened slightly in shock upon hearing that name,as colour rushed to his pale cheeks.

"You...h-how... Vhat?" He stumbled with his words, suddenly unable to speak.

"You know him?" Antonio asked innocently.

"Y-ya, I... You know him too?" Antonio grinned. Oh boy did he know Gilbert. His best pirate friend from Germany, they has met many years ago somewhere near hear as they both wanted to loot this ship in the area. They fought, and drew, so they worked together instead. Heck, Antonio had even shared a boat with him and their French friend, Francis, for about a year. Antonio had recognized Edelstein's accent from Gilbert's harsh way of speaking, but he also remembered Gilbert mentioning this man that he'd met, a man with dark hair and beautiful eyes who came from Austria. It seemed Gilbert could talk about his Roderich for hours. What a coincidence to discover him here.

"Sí, I know him. We travelled the sea together for a long time."By now, all the crowds were silent, listening to their conversation with interest.

"Is... He is alive?" Roderich asked quietly.

"Oh yes, I think so," Antonio said. "I haven't seen him for about nine years now. You're Roderich, right?"

"How do you know... Did he..?" The Austrian man looked like he was far away, and seemed to have forgotten all about they young Italian thief.

"He talked about you a lot. He liked you... A lot." More than a lot, Antonio thought. Gilbert was completely obsessed.

"Oh... I thought he vas dead." It appeared to Antonio that Roderich's heart was broken, and that it had been that way for a long time. He decided to help the man.

"Look, I have an idea. If I ever see Gilbert again, I'll try and bring him to you. Or the other way round." He stopped and smiled slightly. "But only if you let me take this boy here."

He gestured at the thief, and Roderich blinked as if just noticing him.  
"Of course you can have him." He said dismissively, "There's nothing else to do with him." His paled cheeks blushed lightly. "But please promise... If you ever see Gilbert again..."

"I'll tell him that you're looking for him and that you miss him lots." Antonio finished, striding over to the man holding the boy and helping him to his feet. The Italian didn't struggle in his grasp, but glared angrily at him with burning brown eyes, folding his arms sulkily.

"It's not like that... I don't think about him in that way." The Austrian stammered.

"Well he sure seems to think of you like that." Antonio shook Roderich's gloved hand vigorously. "Great meeting you, now if I could just have you're address so I can contact you for whatever reason..." After taking Roderich's address, Antonio focused on the Italian man.

"Hey amigo! We're going to go back to the boat now, it's just over there..." Antonio lead the Italian through the crowds, trying his best to protect him from the angry glances they were getting and trying awkwardly to keep up conversation.

"You look pretty beat up, but don't worry, I'll get Bella to fix you up... Bella is my Belgian lookout girl, she's just over here..." He spotted the gleam of Bella's blonde hair a few meters away, and still dragging the thief firmly by the hand, walked up to her.

"Captain, what were you-?" She said, stopping as she noticed the Italian. "Who's this?"

"I got him off this Austrian man who was trying to punish him for stealing."

"Stealing?"

"I think he took food from a stall or something..."

"And you bought him?"

"Traded him. The Austrian man was a... Friend of Gilbert's and wanted information on him."

"Ok." Bella smiled and let the topic drop. She turned to the quiet Italian. "Hey, I'm Bella," she gestured at Antonio, "and this is captain Antonio." The Italian didn't reply. "Um... What's your name...?"

She raised an eyebrow questioningly at Antonio. He blinked dumbly. "What's his name?" She whispered.

"Uh..."

"ROMANO!"

An ear piecing yell echoed down the street, turning heads left and right, as a short, tanned figure raced towards them. The brown haired boy skidded to a stop in front of Antonio, blinking cautiously up at him, and for a second Antonio thought he was seeing double.

"Romano? What-a happened to you?" His voice was a musical Italian breath, sung from a smiling mouth that was accessorised with big, kind eyes. His hair was lighter than the other boy's, but with the same curl that refused to sit still. This strange child, whom Antonio assumed to be his thief's sibling, fussed over his brother for a while before it appeared he even noticed him and Bella. His little face grew anxious suddenly.

"You didn't-a beat up my brother, did you?" He asks nervously. His brother, Romano, sighed loudly.

"No, I'm afraid your brother got unto thy trouble by himself. Actually, we saved him." Antonio nodded at the small man.

"Woah!" His eyes widened. "Wow! Thank you, sir, um..."

"I'm Captain Antonio." Said the Spanish pirate, bowing to the Italian.

"I'm Feliciano! Nice to meet you, Captain! Are you a pirate?" He chatted happily.

"Sí, I'm a pirate captain!" Antonio preened. Then he remembered something. "But, Feliciano, I'm afraid I'm going to have to take your brother away to sea with me."

Feliciano blinked. "Why?"

"Your brother... Romano, was it? Well he stole something, and to save him from further punishment, I have to take him away with me."

'Lies!" Romano croaked, as if he bad finally discovered his voice again. "Bastard, you just want to punish me more." He scowled grumpily, but Antonio laughed.

"Oh no. I assure you, my ship is very safe, right Bella? You will be very safe there."

Feliciano still looked worried. "But will he be away for long?"

"If we follow our route well, then about 2 years." Antonio replied. The young Italian's eyes filled with tears.

"But we cant cope without Romano for two years! He brings us food, and Grandpa always said that if he worked hard enough he could get a job! Please don't take big brother away, please captain!" Feliciano promptly burst into tears.

"Don't be such a baby, dammit." Romano muttered, frowning. " You'll get on fucking better without me."

"That's not true!" Feliciano threw his arms around his brother, still sobbing.

"G-get off me, bastard." Romano cried, struggling as Feliciano smothered in in a hug. Antonio, seeing his new friend was in trouble, stepped forward and gently put a hand on Feliciano's back.

"Look, I'm sorry but I really do need to take your brother with me. I'm sure you'll be fine without him... Please, stop crying..." Feliciano sniffed loudly.

"Things have-a been so hard since mama died. Grandpa Roma has to work so hard just to buy pasta, and Romano keeps getting fired from his jobs. If Romano leaves..." He trailed off.

"It'll be one less mouth to feed, bastard." Romano finished. "I've got no choice but to go with these fucking people, its not fair." His face softened slightly. "But don't worry about me, Feli. All I can do is get into trouble and get fired from work..."

"But... But Romano!" Feliciano attack-hugged him once more, burying his face in his older brothers shoulder.

Antonio placed a hand on Romano's shoulder, and pulled him to his feet.

"Come on, Romano." He said quietly. Feliciano watched them leave sadly.

"I'll be waiting for you!" He suddenly shouted, waving his arms crazily. Romano sighed and muttered something under his breath, but his eyes flashed sadly in his brother's direction.

"Will he be OK without you?" Antonio asked him quietly, bending down to mutter in his ear. The Italian wasn't much shorter than him, but he did have a certain slouch that affected his height a lot, also added to by the fact that was keeping his head low, hiding his face.

"They'll be fine..." He grumbled, edging away from the older man slightly. As if suddenly remembering something, he glared at Antonio, brown eyes suddenly full of hate.

"So where the fuck are you taking me, bastard?"

"Back to my ship, Romano!" The Spanish man replied, grinning from ear to ear. He pointed in the vague direction of his boat. "She's just over there."

"She?" Romano asked suddenly, glancing up.

"Yes, my boat Maria Fernandez Carriedo. She's beautiful, she is." Romano shook his head slightly.

"Giving a fucking boat a name..."

They arrived at the boat just as the sun had begun to set. The orange of the sky illuminated the sails and made the water that danced around the sides of the ship glow deep citrus hues, sending aquatic reflecting patterns onto all surrounding objects. In the evening light, the boat looked simply spectacular.

"Is this it?"

Romano looked dismissively at the ship, set out before him in all its glory. His eyes narrowed at the Spanish man.

"I suppose it will have to do." He frowned and glanced away as if he was embarrassed, pretending he felt nothing at all. Antonio grinned. It may have been small, but that was a success.

And Antonio planned to be very successful with Romano...

* * *

Just a note: There are several other characters that I plan to write into this story, but of course not all of them get introduced in the first chapter. So if your favourite isn't here, then don't worry, they might turn up in future chapters.


	2. Chapter 2

Romano thought he would never get used to boat life. He hated the way that the ground was constantly moving, bobbing in the water. He hated the dizzy feeling he got every time he had to climb those stupid ladders up the sails. He hated the dark little cabin that was his room. He hated the disgusting, dry food. But most of all, he hated the stupid Spanish Captain, Antonio.

The first few weeks had been terrible. Romano refused to talk to anyone, turned down any food, and all the time he couldn't get used to being at sea. He threw up three times on the first night alone, and it took almost a whole week for his fever to wear off.

Once he was back to normal health, there wad the problem of the other people on the ship. There were about 17 on the ship in total, but Romano only took notice of a few. There was the chatty, pretty woman, Bella, who told him she was from Belgium. There was her intimidating older brother, Abel, who was Dutch and spoke in only short sentences and grunts. Along with them, there was a large, ginger haired woman who cooked the food, an obese, toothless man who spent most of his time polishing the canons, and an elderly man with wrinkles everywhere who sat in a corner most of the time, talking to himself about ' the good old days'.

But the new thing most horrifying to Romano was work. Romano hated anything which involved effort or skill, both of which he felt he lacked a lot. For the first few days, he ignored any request for him to work completely. Then, Antonio forced him into working by threatening, rather kindly, to throw the already terrifyingly small amount pasta overboard. So Romano worked, but only if he had to. Sometimes he would clean the ship, other times he helped lookout in the crows nest with Bella, (Romano liked this one a lot, as not much ever came along to look out for, and he usually ended up napping). Occasionally, he would help out in the kitchen, even though the large cook scared him. Romano enjoyed making fresh food, with vegetables and meats and spices, and especially pasta, although he was barely cooked with any of his precious supplies.

Over time, Romano warmed up to the others members of the ship, as he began to accept that he was stuck with then for two years. Although he often ached for his home, he couldn't deny that he did like the ocean, the smell of salty waves...

But then their was that man, the captain. Romano couldn't get his head around that stupid man; at first he came across as an airheaded Spaniard with a strange obsession with tomatoes. But then, after getting to know him better, Romano observed a more teasing side, causing for Romano to take him as a pervert. However, it also seemed he was fierce as well. One time, Bella told him how Antonio had beaten this English pirate in a battle over a jewel our something. She had mentioned how the Spanish man had cut off the other ship captain's ear and set fire to his ship, getting himself horribly burnt in the process. Romano wasn't all to sure if he believed her, as he had never seen any burn scars on Antonio's body. He did try to talk to the man as little as possible though, as he was sure that something would happen to him with that man... something bad that he couldn't quite imagine yet.

Romano sighed, leaning over the side of the ship and gazing at the waves. Had he really been away for a month now? Surely that wasn't right. His home was a long way away, so was his brother, and his grandpa. They seemed like a dream to him, like something that happened in another world...

"The waves really are beautiful, aren't they?"

Romano nearly fell off the boat. He spun around, hand flying to attack the owner of the voice-

"Easy, mi amigo!" Antonio caught Romano's hand in his, grinning as the smaller man struggled furiously. "No use attacking someone when you don't really know how to fight."

"I do know how to fight, bastard!" Romano fumed, snatching his hand out of Antonio's grip. He glared angrily at the pirate captain.

"Oh really? Wait a moment here for me, Romano..." suddenly Antonio hurried off in the direction of his cabin, leaving Romano muttering angrily to himself. He returned shortly with two swords, a bigger one and a smaller one.

"Here," he handed Romano the smaller sword with a smirk. Romano examined the weapon in his hands; about the length of his arm, it looked old, but in good condition. He gave it an experimental swing towards Antonio.

"Ah, sí, I think that is good enough for you," Antonio said. He raised his own sword. "Let us test it out."

He dived at Romano, sword aimed gracefully towards the younger man's chest. Years of stealing things had given Romano quick reflexes, so he dodged it almost instantly. He held the blade in his hand nervously, before running at Antonio.

"Eat shit, bastard!"

Their swords clashed with a loud clang , shards of sunlight flying off the  
opposing blades like tiny explosions. Antonio spun elegantly around, his sword streaming through the air towards Romano's head. The Italian ducked just in time to feel it graze his hair, then turned to avoid the captain's next move.

Romano had to admit, he had a hard time keeping up with the Spaniard. The way he hopped, span and twirled through the air, the way his sword glided perfectly in all the right places, it reminded Romano of a dance. Yes, it looked a lot to him like the pirate was dancing.

Being younger and having less experience meant Romano found himself struggling to keep up with Antonio's moves, and eventually he stumbled, crashing to his knees on the deck. As he sat up, he felt a blade press against his neck, and a warm breath down the back of his neck. Antonio leaned closer, so that his lips were touching Romano's ear lightly.

"Not bad, not bad at all mi corazón~" he muttered, smiling slightly. Romano flushed an unattractive shade of tomato red.

"Don't talk your language to me, you filthy bastard." he said, pushing Antonio's sword away from his throat and standing up.

"Do you speak any Spanish, Romano? Would you like me to teach you?" Antonio asked, almost too innocently.

"I only know a little Spanish, just from the town and stuff... and I don't want to learn any more, stupid bastard..." Romano replied. He rubbed his neck impatiently.

"Did I hurt you, Romano? I've got to say, you did very well."

"I'm fine." Romano grumbled, diverting his eyes. "I'll go... do something... now... bastard..." he went to walk away.

"Um... Romano?" the Italian turned, eyebrows raised.

"What is it now?"

"Would you like me to teach you to use that sword properly?" Romano hadn't even noticed that he still had the sword in his hand. He blinked at it dubiously, before staring at Antonio for a while.

"...yes..."

The sword clattered to the floor, and Romano was gone, leaving Antonio with a triumphant smile on his face.

It was a boiling hot day when Antonio docked his ship in the small coastal French village. The sun was glaring down mercilessly, reminding the Spanish pirate of his home country in summer, and also of two friends who he met here several years ago. The summer was hot that year as well, and they were young and wild (wilder than they were now) and he had brief, happy memories of drinking, laughing and messing around.

Antonio sighed to himself, quietly, but still loud enough that Romano, who was standing behind him, heard.

"What're you sighing about, bastard?" he asked grumpily, approaching Antonio with his arms folded.

"Ah, nothing. I was just thinking about two good friends of mine whom I may here many, many years ago, now." he offered Romano his hand. "Would you like help getting off the ship?"

"I can do it fucking fine myself." Romano spat, turning his back on Antonio. Together with Bella, they walked into the French town, in search of shops where they could stock up on supplies. The streets were crowded with people, noisy people, most of them speaking French. On fact, it was very busy, so much that eventually they lost Bella in the crowds.

"It's ok," Antonio shrugged it off when Romano pointed out her absence. "She'll be fine. But keep close to me Romano, I don't want to loose you as well..." The Italian grumbled as Antonio put a have on his shoulder and dragged him through the mass of people into a narrower, less crowded street, with smaller shops and a pretty cobbled road.

"Ooh!"

There was a glint in Antonio's eyes as he approached the shop, pure awe glowing on his face. Like a child, he pressed his face against the window of the tiny, antique weaponry store, just to get closer to the weapons inside that he loved so. Romano had seen the collection that he kept in his cabin a few times, and it was a mass of gleaming blades, highly polished guns and lethal killing machines. In fact, Antonio had told him never to touch anything in there without him around unless it was an emergency. Romano liked to imagine breaking in there and using the one of the crazy guns to blast off someone's head in a fight whilst protecting Antonio, although he always told himself that he wasn't protecting Antonio, just punishing the other person.

Shaking his head slightly, Romano turned and looked around. Not much was going on down this street, but it was better than the pushing, shoving crowds from before. Just a few tiny shops, a bakery, a bookstore and the antique weapons shop, and the rest of the road was houses with big windows and open doors. A smell caught on Romano's nose... he knew that smell. Since he was younger, ever since he was born, that smell had been there, although often accompanied by tomatoes, or herbs and spices, the basic scent was still there. Romano's eyes glinted.

Pasta.

He swivelled round on the balls of his feet, nose to the sky, and stumbled blindly in the direction of the food. Oh, how he'd missed pasta! Months at sea, without even his favourite food to remind him of home.

And there it was! He spied it, though an open door, sitting perfectly on a beautiful table. Romano's mouth watered as he gazed into the house, longing to taste the dish... Surely no one would notice? And if they did, they'd never find him, he'd be our at sea. Besides, what were you to expect, leaving pasta out all by itself...

He inched forward a few steps, hands outstretched to snatch up the delicate bowl of food.

So close.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, mi corazón."

The voice was so close to his ear, at first Romano thought it was in his head. He swivelled at the feeling of a warm hand on his shoulder, coming eye to eye with Antonio.

"I wasn't going to- bastard, what did you call me?" the Spanish man winked slightly before replying.

"Do you speak any Spanish, Romano?" he said, leading the Italian away from the open door away from his pasta.

"No..." Romano grumped, slouching after him slowly.

"Ah, I should teach you..."

They wondered slowly out into the main streets, Antonio keeping close to Romano so he didn't loose him. As the pair walked, Antonio taught Romano basic Spanish words. However, as usually expected from the captain, the lesson started up with basic phrases like hello (hola) and ended up with more 'useful' phrases like fuck me (cogeme duro). This continued for their whole shopping trip, in which they picked up the remaining supplies needed for the ship, plus some pasta and three bottles of a very strong looking alcohol that Antonio bought off a French man.

"You are old enough to drink, aren't you?" Asked the tall, Spanish man.

"Of course bastard..."

"Hmm... how old are you?"

"I'm nineteen, bastard!" Romano snapped. Antonio laughed.

"You shouldn't swear so much," he scolded the Italian playfully. "Come on, lets find a quiet place to drink this." he gestured at the bottles in his hands.

After about five minutes, they discover a quiet spot in the form of a stone staircase leading down to an empty beach. Antonio plonked himself down on the sun flooded steps that boasted a beautiful view of the twinkling waves in the glowing orange sunset. Romano sat, a little awkwardly, next to him, and Antonio passed him a bottle.

"Careful, this is strong stuff." he warns, removing the lid off of his bottle. Romano sighed.

"I'll be fine." they each took a swig from their bottles, Antonio with a grin on his face and Romano... Antonio had never seen such a cute, funny face in his life. It was like someone had kissed, slapped and stabbed Romano at the same time. The Italian spat violently onto the floor.

"Are you trying to fucking poison me, bastard?" he retched dramatically, and Antonio patted him on the back, smirking slightly.

"I thought you said you'd drunk before?"

"Well..." Romano scowled a little. "I've had wine a few times with my grandpa..."

"Did you never go out drinking with friends?" Antonio was teasing, but Romano looked down.

"I never really... had any friends..." Antonio looked shocked.

"But why?"

"I was always rude to everyone, so nobody really liked me." Romano took a swig from his bottle and cringed.

"Aww, it's ok, I'll be your friend." said Antonio, desperately trying to cheer him up. The Spanish pirate sighed slightly.

"I never really had any friends as a child either. I was nice to everyone, but none of them were true friends. But then... nearly ten years ago now, I met my two best friends. Both pirates too." he glanced at Romano to check he was still listening, then continued.

"One was this French perv, Francis. We met somewhere up in Holland, and at first I planned to raid his ship. But there was this other guy in the area, a crazy English pirate. He got all mad at us, and shot down Francis' ship, so me and Francis made a truce and I let him on my ship. Then we met this mental German man, Gilbert, also a pirate. Actually, he tried to raid my ship, but then we had a swordfight, and drew, and it turned out that we had a common enemy: The English pirate. After this, we travelled together, all three of us, in my ship. We sailed for about a year, during which we picked up Bella and Abel, before that tough old Brit found us again. He... captured Francis, so me and Gil tried to save him. In the end, we..."

He trailed off, gazing out to sea with olive eyes stained red by the sunset. Add in fluttering dark eyelashes and it looked like his pupils burned as his blinked, glowing orange lava threatening to spill down his cheeks. He wiped away a single bead of burning, molten fire as it trailed from his fiery eye, and continued.

"I set fire... to the English man's ship. I... still have the burn scars. Francis and Gilbert escaped, but... we all went different ways, and I haven't heard of then since." he ran a hand gently up to his left shoulder, feeling, beneath the fabric, hidden scars.

Romano reminded himself to breath.

"Ah, well, I'm sure we'll meet again someday!" it was only now that Romano realised that Antonio had been drinking all through the story, and his bottle was almost empty.

"If not, I guess we'll meet I hell..." the Spaniard rambled, bottle slipping from his grasp and smashing to the floor in-between him and Romano.

"Careful, bastard!" the Italian snapped, shuffling away from the wreckage. Antonio picked up a shard of the glass and held it to the light curiously.

"So pretty..." Romano snatched it off him and chucked it into the sea.

"You'll cut yourself, idiota."

Antonio giggled. "I didn't know you cared so much, Romano!" he wrapped his arms clumsily around the smaller man, pulling him into an awkward hug.

"Get off me!" Romano cursed as his wriggled in Antonio's grip. Outstretching a leg, he kicked the Spanish man in the stomach, causing him to let go and Romano to fall to the ground, on top of the pile of glass. Antonio was, by now, bent over laughing.

"Ahaha, Romano, are you ok?" he asked hysterically.

"Oww..."

"Romano?"

"Ah... bastard...owwww..."

"Romano!"

* * *

AN: Well, this got serious quickly.

Thank you all who are reading. And I promise there will be more characters soon.

Reviews would be much appreciated :)


	3. Chapter 3

Warnings: graphic sex, small discussion of cuts/ blood, alcohol. And of course, Romano's swearing (it never ends)

The cut was about twenty centimeters long, and not too deep. However, the glass had been on the floor for at least three minutes, and any germs cut be transferring from it into the blood.

These were a few if the reasons the glass had to come out of Romano's left hand.

"Ah... dammit, bastard, do something!" Antonio thought fast: if he took the glass out, it would bleed more. But if he kept it in, his precious Romano was at risk of an infection.

"Shh, it's ok. I'm going to take the glass out, _sì_?" he muttered, brow furrowed in concern. He took Romano's limp hand in his, gentle fingers caressing the skin slightly more than they should.

"This... this is your fault." Romano muttered.

"I know. I am very, very, _very_ sorry, Romano." Antonio leaned in closer. Ever so carefully, he began to pull out the glass-

"Oh _Mio dio_! OW!" Romano snatched his hand back, cursing loudly. "Bastard, no!"

"But Romano..." pleaded Antonio, "If I don't remove it you'll get an infection."

"But it hurts.' tears sparkled in Romano's eyes.

"I know... shh, it's going to be ok...I..."

An idea struck Antonio. An idea that he knew could potentially ruin his friendship with Romano forever. But surely, surely it was worth a try? This was what pirates did, right? Pirates always got what they wanted.

And Antonio wanted Romano more than anything.

 _Deep breath, Antonio._

"On three, I pull it out, ok?"

"Mm..."

" _Uno_."

 _I'm going to do it_.

" _Dos_."

 _He's going to kill me. I can't... he hates me... I don't deserve him._

" _Tres_."

The air swished past Antonio, split second movement pulling him towards Romano, desires flying like the chocolate locks of the Spaniard's hair as he got closer, closer, closer.

A breath.

A gasp.

The collision of the two men's lips.

A kiss.

A kiss to ease the pain, to sing words that can't be spoken, to complete an unforgettable moment and engrave it into Romano's memory as the day his life changed.

All that mattered were those warm lips on his, the tongue that broke through every thing he ever knew.

This was terrible.

Terribly, awfully, horribly amazing.

Just as the kiss got more, how do you say, heated, Romano felt a small, stabbing pain in his hand, but he brushed over it quickly; he had other things to focus on. However, Antonio was suddenly retreating from him, smiling.

"Here we go." Romano watched in fascination as Antonio ripped off the sleeve of his shirt into a long thin strip of cotton and wrapped it gently around the open wound in his hand, tying it in a small knot at the end. The Spanish man pulled Romano's hand to his lips and kissed it gently, right on the cut, and giggled.

"See, it didn't hurt that much." he teased.

Suddenly, Romano remembered that he hated Antonio. A blush flooded onto his cheeks like waves crashing onto a beach, and his hand flew to touch his mouth lightly.

"Bastard... I..." he mumbled.

"Romano..?"

 _Crash._

The crashing if the waves on the beach was all to be heard.

"What does _mi corazón_ mean?"

 _Crash_.

Antonio swallowed, sighed, and expressed the truth.

"My love or my... heart." Romano stared into space, figuring this out, and Antonio felt a slight confidence boost. It wasn't a no... yet.

 _Crash_.

"Because you are my heart, Romano. My heart, if you want it, belongs to you. I saved you from that Austrian because you looked so beautiful, so interesting. I knew instantly that I needed you, Romano. And... and if you're not ready, I'm prepared to wait. I'd wait for you as long as... the sea exists, and had existed."

 _Crash._

Romano sighed quietly, brown eyes shining like endless chestnut voids as he reached forward to gently touch Antonio's arm.

"You... you would wait that long? For me?" his voice was so quiet, it seemed to melt into the crashing of the waves like wine poured into the sea.

 _Crash._

"Sí, of couse, _mi corazón_." was all Antonio could breathlessly muster over the pounding of his heart. All he had was focused on Romano, on his smooth, tanned body, his wide, auburn eyes, his soft-looking chocolate hair. All rested on this beautiful, tense moment, anticipation loading the atmosphere for the words that would come out of Romano's pursed lips.

The waves crashed on the beach.

 _Crash_.

" _Ti- ti amo_."

Antonio couldn't speak Italian; but, although he was too proud to admit it, the phrase that Romano said sounded very similar to a phrase he knew well in Spanish.

 _Te amo_ : I love you.

" _Uno, dos, tres_." Antonio counted quickly, sweeping in on three to capture Romano's lips once again. And this time, Romano kissed back.

Antonio liked to think of himself as a good kisser. After over a decade now of sailing the seas and meeting many foreign people, he felt like he had a lot of experience; There was that he pretty Hungarian girl who lived with Roderich, the Austrian. He had kissed her when Gilbert wasn't looking, but regretted it afterwards (she had hit him round the head with a frying pan). Then there was that Icelandic boy, from the ship owned by the crazy Danish pirate whom Antonio had encountered near Holland around the same time he'd picked up Abel and Bella. Unfortunately, the teenage Icelander was tougher than he looked, and Antonio had also received a beating up from his practically psychopathic older brother afterwards. There was also Francis, whom Antonio had kissed just as an experiment. But Francis slapped him, and he never tried again.

Come to think of it, this was the first time Antonio had ever kissed someone and not got beat up for it. And even better, it was Romano...

" _Mmph_." Romano broke away, blushing lightly. "My hands bleeding again, bastard."

Indeed, there were large red stains seeping through the thin makeshift bandage, as the cut underneath openly bled. Antonio removed his hands from under Romano's shirt quickly (his fingers had a tendency of roaming when kissing.)

"Ah, we should better get back to the ship, I guess." he looked around as if he'd only just noticed the rest of the world. "Oh! It's almost dark!"

"Well noticed." grumbled the ever-sarcastic Romano, standing up. Antonio hauled himself off the floor drowsily.

"Mm, why does my head hurt so much, I wonder." he asked cluelessly.

"'Cause you're drunk, bastard." Romano started to walk off up the stairs without him.

"Hey, wait up!" called Antonio, stumbling up the steps after him. He took Romano's right hand, the uninjured one, in his own, and held it tight.

"I'll get Bella to clean you up, _sí_?" Romano nodded, but stopped as he caught Antonio's eye. "And Romano..?"

"What?"

" _Te amo_. I think that means the same thing as _ti amo_ , am I right?"

"Yes."

 _Crash_.

* * *

"There. All patched up." Bella finished tying the neat knot in the end of the bandage that covered most of Romano's left hand.

"Thank you..." mumbled Romano, blushing at being so close to such a pretty girl. But, well, Romano could only think of Antonio right now.

"You're lucky I bought some new bandages." nattered Bella. She turned to her brother. "I told you it wouldn't be a waste of money."

"Hm." the tall Abel shrugged, adjusting the double-coloured scarf that he always wore. Romano had always been wary of the Dutch man; he looked like he could, and would, beat someone up. And there was the smoking... he seemed to always be chewing on some manky old pipe or cigar, but only occasionally did he puff smoke from his mouth. Also, Romano could never figure out quite how he got his hair to stand up straight like that. Maybe that's what constantly being high does to your hair?

"Oh, yeah, Captain Antonio wanted to see you." Bella smiled at him suggestively, and Romano panicked. Did she know? How could she know?!

"Um, I'll go... see the bastard." muttered Romano as fast as he could before practically sprinting from the room. He covered his flushed face in his hands for a few seconds, before hurrying quickly away from the Belgian girl and her (apparently) all knowing smile.

Romano walked along the deck of the docked ship, eyes glistening in the creamy whitewash moonlight. There was light in the windows of the Captain's quarters, so he figured that Antonio would be there. He wondered what Antonio wanted; maybe to tell him that all that happened earlier was a joke? No one had ever kissed Romano before, or told him that they'd wait forever for him, apart from maybe Feliciano, but Romano's fluffy, joyful little brother didn't count.

Romano knocked twice on the solid oak door, and heard a slight shuffling from inside.

"Come in!" Antonio's voice finally called.

The door was heavy, and it took some struggling for Romano to open it. He slipped into the room quietly.

"Welcome, _mi corazón_." grinned Antonio, getting up out of his chair and pulling Romano into his arm. Flustered by thus sudden movement, Romano struggled slightly.

"Bas- what did you want?" Antonio chuckled slightly lowing hid head to take a Dee sniff of Romano's hair.

"You." he whispered, brushing his lips against Romano's neck. Romano blushed deep, blood red.

"You're still drunk, idiot." he told Antonio, although, for some reason, he made no attempt to escape his grasp.

"But you drank too..." muttered Antonio. Without warning, he trailed a small line down Romano's neck with his tongue, causing the Italian to shiver.

"B-bastard..." was all he could muster, as Antonio's mouth began to gently suck at his neck. His hands flew up, and he ran them through Antonio's surprising soft locks of hair. The Spanish man pressed his lips hungrily against Romano's collarbone, nose digging into his tanned neck. He began to wonder down the Italian's chest, leaving a small trail of saliva as he went, until his head was almost down Romano's shirt.

Then Antonio slowly slipped Romano's shirt up his stomach, over his head and off of his arms, emerald eyes glistening as he took in more and more of the Italian's body.

Romano felt like he was in a dream; time seemed to slip away abnormally, all he could see were pictures that flashed before him. The embroidered pattern on Antonio's bed sheets, the Spaniard's toned, muscular chest, the single candle that flickered before going out, leaving the warm room swathed in only moonlight.

The sounds; The gentle squeak of the bed, the forever present creaking of the old boat, the rustle of blankets, the long, deep, breaths from Antonio.

Antonio knew what to do. It was him that held Romano in the right places, that sent shivers down Romano's spine with his spell binding touches in all the right places.

He smelt like tomatoes, and perspiration, and wood, and he had the salty smell of the sea in his hair. His mouth still tasted of alcohol, his tongue soft and wet and slightly bumpy against Romano's. His skin was smooth, and Romano longed for more of it to touch him. His hair was soft. His eyes were green.

Antonio felt fantastic.

He was deep inside of Romano, and the movement was painful. Both Antonio and Romano yelled as they twisted, burning kisses placed on any part of each other they could find. The world deteriorated around them, so that all each knew was the sweating, writhing person in their arms. All that existed were them. Not anyone else, not themselves either. Just them, as one, together in the night.

And for a second, it was like they were the same person, and it was blissful and wonderful and beautiful.

Then reality came crashing down, and they lay, sweaty and tired, next to each other on the messed up covers of the bed, panting deeply. Antonio reached forward and pulled the blankets over them both, and Romano snuggled wearily into his arms; he was too tired to complain; he'd curse Antonio in,the morning, when he wasn't so drowsy... For now, he'd just lie, warm and safe, until he had thought up something to moan about.

Antonio stroked Romano's hair with his fingers, and Romano's eyelids flickered close. Within a few minutes, he was asleep.

"Buenos noches, mi corazón." whispered Antonio, kissing the sleeping Romano one last tine on the forehead before closing his eyes, and drifting to sleep himself.

* * *

 **A/N: Yay, I finally managed to finish this chapter! Here, have some beautiful Spamano. I was fangirling just writing this...**

 **In the next chapter: New characters! (well new to this story, at least) and an actual, yes actual, story line developing *gasps*.**

 **Thank you for reading (=ヮ=)೨**


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